An Icy Bite

EVIE

Sam helped me slip my jacket off, caressing my shoulders like he could tell I needed some reassurance. I nudged my feet from the ankle boots next and sank nearly three inches, making me feel inferior in front of Sam’s towering ex-wife.

The crystal chandelier above fractured the light into an array of colors resembling a rainbow, and the elegant walnut-stained staircase flaunted a set of iron spindles. It all put my childhood home to shame.

“Make yourselves at home,” Regina said with a smile. “Dinner still needs a few more minutes.”

Sam, Carla, and I wandered into the living room. Sam and I sat on the black leather sofa; Carla settled herself in a recliner across from us.

The Christmas tree in the corner sparkled with colored lights and homemade ornaments that piqued my curiosity. It looked like Sam had made a few of those himself when he was younger.

There was even a tiny photo on one branch that had to be Sam as a baby. I desperately wanted to head over there and peek at it, but Carla’s glare was immobilizing.

“So, what is it you do, Evie?” Carla asked, crossing her legs.

I thought fast. Sam had said not to make anything up, but surely he didn’t want me telling his ex-wife…? Screw it, I couldn’t think of a good lie anyway. “At the moment, I’m actually a secretary for Sam’s firm.”

A sour expression caked her face. “So you work for Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, isn’t that something…”

~What the fuck does that mean?~

“Um, Evie actually used to own her own business called Evangeline’s,” Sam chimed in. “A floral shop in Washington State.”

Carla cocked a brow. “Used to?”

“Yeah, I, uh…after my divorce, I sold my business and moved back out here to be closer to my family,” I explained.

“So, let me get this straight…,” Carla said with a sigh. “You sold off your livelihood because of one man, and then moved here to get underneath another?”

“Carla…,” Sam said in a warning tone.

“It’s okay.” I shot to my feet. “I’m just gonna see if your parents need any help in the kitchen.”

Though I wasn’t comfortable leaving Sam alone with his ex-wife, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. She really knew how to make me feel like less of a human being.

After I helped Regina and Fernando carry the side dishes to their mahogany dining table, Carla and Sam came in from the living room. I eyed them, trying to get a sense of what they might’ve said to each other in my absence, but they were both stone-faced.

“Oh, I forgot the wine glasses,” Regina huffed.

“I’ll grab them,” I offered. Truthfully, I just wanted to delay this dinner for as long as possible.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Carla said.

“Oh.” I waved a palm. “You don’t have to—”

“Nonsense. You have two hands, and there are five of us,” Carla interrupted.

Carla and I faltered into the immaculate kitchen together. The whole place was gleaming with white cabinets and black marble countertops, like something out of a magazine.

As I approached the wine rack, Carla severed the silence.

“You know, I get it—the fantasy you think you’re living?” She came up behind me and grabbed three wine glasses. “The secretary doing her boss after hours? Really, it’s a cry for help.”

“Excuse me?” I muttered, staring at her in awe.

~How dare you?~

“Look,” she said, matter-of-fact, “the relationship between you and my ex-husband is very unhealthy. Frankly, I feel sorry for you. The uneven power dynamic is solely Sam taking advantage of you.”

“He’s not…,” I tried.

“Oh, but he is. And to think of it any other way is simply being naïve. Do yourself a favor and pull the ripcord. Don’t be that pathetic little woman in the porno who sleeps with her boss for an iota of a pay raise.”

Did she seriously just compare me to a porn flick? How did she even have the nerve to speak to me like that? A woman she barely knew!

But then, a tiny part of me wondered if she was right. After all, Sam and I had made our business casual agreement for a reason, even if we’d been having some trouble sticking to it lately. I ~didn’t~ want to be the girl sleeping with the boss.

A deep tone suddenly captured our attention. “Is everything all right?” Sam stood at the kitchen threshold, gazing between us gravely.

“Oh yeah. You know us girls…,” Carla said with a grin.

Carla hustled around Sam to head back to the dining room with her three crystal glasses in hand. As I stared at him, I couldn’t help but replay everything Carla’s venomous whisper had just inserted into my head.

“Are you okay?” he asked, halting before me.

It took a moment and a sharp breath, but I answered, “Yeah.”

“Evie…,” he pleaded, clasping my arms. “What happened?”

Starting more drama tonight wouldn’t do anyone any good. The best thing that I could do right now was lie.

“Nothing. Let’s get back out there before they wonder where we are.”

I veered around Sam with the remaining glasses, brushing off his concern and doing my best to do the same with Carla’s remarks—as disheartening as they were.

A miniature, yet just as sophisticated chandelier hung over the dining table as we all poked at our mashed potatoes, gravy, meatloaf, and corn.

Stressed after the debacle in the kitchen, I downed half my glass of wine way too quickly, but it was helping me relax, so for the moment, it was more of my main course than anything else on the table.

“So, Carla, how’s John doing?” Fernando asked politely.

“Extremely well,” Carla said with a beaming smile. “If his team wins this year, they’re heading for the Super Bowl again.”

~The Super Bowl? So, the man that she cheated with is in the NFL?~

Regina smiled. “That’s lovely, dear.”

I couldn’t believe they still wanted anything to do with her after what she’d done to their son. It was so weird, all of them sitting around the table making small talk. I couldn’t imagine my own parents doing the same with Greg.

But then, I guess after years of being Carla’s in-laws, it was hard for Regina and Fernando to let go. According to Sam, Carla’s parents had passed away years ago, so she didn’t really have anywhere else to spend the holiday.

I spared a thought to wonder how Greg’s family was doing right now. I’d always loved Greg’s parents, his little brother, all his little nieces and nephews. Hell, toward the end, I’d loved them even more than Greg.

“So, Sam, did you sign the paperwork for the merger yet?” Regina asked.

“Not yet, but I will this coming week.”

Carla’s forehead crinkled as she finished a sip of Merlot. “You’re merging the company?”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Sam said tightly.

“Well, I told you your business in Burlington was fragile,” Carla said, matter-of-fact again. “There’s too much competition here for another law firm.”

“God forbid people have choices…,” Sam said, rolling his eyes.

“So, um…Carla, what’s John like?” I asked, changing the subject.

She seemed to love talking about herself and her new husband. I was sure Sam would appreciate the pressure coming off him for a few minutes.

“He’s the best. Handsome, successful, and the best part is, I don’t have to deal with any nauseating jokes.” Carla rolled her eyes. “Has Sam started that with you yet?”

My heart pulsed in my neck as she turned the conversation right back to cutting down her ex-husband. My veins simmered hotter with every insult and judgmental barb that spilled from her shallow mouth.

“Carla, play nice,” Fernando warned.

“I’m sorry,” Carla said. “I’m simply trying to prepare Evie for what she’s in for. If Sam truly had her best interest at heart, I don’t think he would’ve pursued her. Isn’t that just a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen?”

Sam’s mouth opened, but before he could respond, I cut in with my own icy tone. “You know what, Carla? ~Yes~, Sam and I may be unconventional. ~Yes~, I may be his secretary.

“But I’ll have you know—as his secretary—I see how much Sam cares about ~every~ person who steps foot in that office. I see how hardworking and determined he is.

“And ~no~, he does ~not~ deserve to sit at this table across from you and constantly be put down despite his accomplishments. What he ~does~ deserve is someone by his side who can see past the green paper lining his wallet.”

I shot from my chair, nearly knocking it backward, before making my last statement. “Oh, and by the way…I love his jokes.”

I hurried out to the foyer, snagged my jacket, and slipped on my shoes, heading outside for some much-needed air.